


The Faces of Amycus Carrow

by walkthroughhale



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-26
Updated: 2017-11-26
Packaged: 2019-02-06 21:35:59
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,274
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12826590
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/walkthroughhale/pseuds/walkthroughhale
Summary: A oneshot written for a group rp I'm involved in on Tumblr - in which Amycus Carrow is a Healer at St Mungo's, his identity as a Death Eater still hidden from the world. Set during the First Wizarding War.





	The Faces of Amycus Carrow

Becoming a Healer was never a path Amycus expected. It wasn’t that he didn’t have the intelligence for it. The Death Eater hadn’t met a single thing he couldn’t conquer or excel at. Being the first born son in a family that expected the world from him, he relished in the praise that came with his accomplishments. Though, that was only the fuel to his fire. The flint that started it all came from a deeper need, an innate desire to understand the world. To watch the cogs turn and figure out what made them do so.

Come to think of it, perhaps it wasn’t that far off base that he was standing at the front of St Mungo’s now, the brilliant white and subtle green of his scrubs reflecting harshly off the windows in front of him. He was just about to finish a double shift and had one last set of rounds to do before going home. The soft glow of this evenings moon caught his attention for a mere moment. It was particularly large for a winters night, almost like the cruel chill enhanced it’s glow. A stunning metaphor for his own nature.

“Evening, Amycus. Are you coming or going?” The voice rang out behind him, a soft shrill from a blonde he knew all too well. “Neither, just taking a moment to smell the roses, as they say. I have a few more rounds left to do but then I’m done for the night. What about you? Just arriving, Maise?” The smile that tugged at the corner of his lips was a devilish grin, his eyes shining as he watched her move towards him. “Yeah, just now. Shame we’re missing each other tonight.”

She was a sweet little thing who could do things with her tongue that could make your hair stand on end at the sheer thought. It was enough to elicit a slight growl as he watched her saunter off, her hips swaying, muggle clothes perfectly framing her body as she walked. Turning on his heel, the Healer fell back into pace, towards the fourth floor. He was trained in all areas required to be working at St Mungo’s but his particular skill set favoured Spell Damage victims. It took him another forty-five minutes before he wrapped up his rounds, with only one last stop before he could head home.

Room 112 was a closed unit, a private room for a particularly damaged patient. He’d been tortured into a coma by a group of Death Eaters a year ago. Stepping inside and silently sliding the lock home when the door had shut, a flash of blonde hair caught in the eerie fluorescent glow of the otherwise darkened interior. “How’s he doing?” Amycus asked, an almost sweet note to his tone as he stepped towards Maise. She had come to visit her father every single day since he was admitted. The Healers had been working around the clock to help him but nothing seemed to wake him up...

“Oh, you know how it is.” She smiled solemnly, before standing up and walking towards him once more. Without warning, she lifted herself to the tips of her toes, a feeble attempt to reach his lips. Chuckling softly, he slid a large hand across her lower back, pulling her hard against him as his head dipped, lips meeting her own in a hard kiss. A Healer Code of Ethics prevented them from fraternising with patients, or family of patients. At least while they were still admitted...but Amycus rejoiced in breaking codes and wasn’t exactly one to hold ethics to a high standard. Not that anyone else knew.

When the moment collapsed and he broke the kiss, Maise took a step back. Only this time, lust and intrigue weren't what she was feeling. There was horror written across her features, she stumbled trying to pull back further but her legs didn’t seem to work properly. It was like she was rooted in place from fear. Which made sense, given the fact that the man standing before her was no longer Amycus Carrow, a Healer, and kind man. No, the image now planted in her mind was Amycus, dressed in a dark black suit cloaked in wizard’s robes. The Death Eater mask covered his features and the temperature in the room dropped to ice cold as if all the warmth had been sucked out.

“What’s the matter, Maise? Don’t you recognize me?” His tone had shifted, all the sweetness he’d exhibited earlier was gone. In place was a harsh sound, one that reverberated through the room and echoed off the walls. “Please, don’t hurt me.” She whimpered. Her eyes darted around as if searching for an exit but her body remained glued in place. Stepping forward, Amycus allowed an evil grin to contort his lips, his hand sliding slowing up her body, the soft skin of her neck supply beneath his touch. He continued until long fingers were knotted in a fist of long blonde locks, tugging back hard. The sharp pain caused her to cry out, and he relished in the sound.

His free hand, now closed over the length of his wand, lifted. The tip tracing her face, down her jaw line, over her chest, stopping between her breasts. “Oh, how I do enjoy toying with you.” He whispered, almost longingly. A spark of light shot from the tip of his wand, jutting out into her body. She screamed again, pain flaring her senses, her nerves frying as the light moved inside her. “Scream for me, darling.” And she willingly obliged. He shot another piece of light, the two red sparks moving throughout her body, just beneath the skin. Dancing and swaying together to the sounds of her pain, burning her from within as they did. “Scream louder.”

A flash of lightning outside illuminated the room for a second and she saw them, the black wings protruding from his back. A hallucination, most probably. But she finally understood why they called this one the Angel of Death.

* * *

 

Legilimency wasn’t an easy undertaking, but that was exactly the kind of magic that Amycus thrived with. The fact that it allowed him free reign inside his victims head was an added bonus. The control it gave him was what he sought after the most. The ability to see what made them tick, to find their fears and use it against them, it was a thing of beauty. It gave him a hard-on just thinking about it. The acts they saw may not be real, an altered state of memory...but they sure as hell felt real. At least to them. Even more appealing? There were no limits. In one's subconscious he could push until they broke, put them back together again, rinse, repeat. There was no end to their turmoil until he gave it to them. It wasn’t long before he released her and Maise passed out from the pain. She was pathetic, really. A weak-minded mudblood who couldn’t hold her own. With a roll of his eyes and a click of his fingers, she was awake once more, the image having returned to normal, her body calm, her mind still. As if it were all just a dream and she had merely and momentarily slipped out of consciousness. “I...uhhh-” Unsure of herself, and reality, Maise looked to the man who was holding her for guidance. “Are you ok, darling? You tuned out for a second there....It’s ok, I know how hard this all must be for you. Come now, take a seat. I’ll make you a spot of tea...”


End file.
